


Blame the Chinese Food

by Athena da Jova (acostilow)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acostilow/pseuds/Athena%20da%20Jova
Summary: "Dean wasn’t sure how they got here. He thought for a moment. It might have had something to do with the Chinese food."





	

**Author's Note:**

> [ ](http://picara.livejournal.com/profile)[picara](http://picara.livejournal.com/) said, and I quote, "There's not enough making out fic in the world." I did my best, dear. Huge PWP. No, like, seriously. Here be no plot. *thinks* For once. Thank you, [ ](http://beluga.livejournal.com/profile)[beluga](http://beluga.livejournal.com/), [ ](http://picara.livejournal.com/profile)[picara](http://picara.livejournal.com/), [ ](http://exsequar.livejournal.com/profile)[exsequar](http://exsequar.livejournal.com/), and  uninendolothen for betaing.

**Blame the Chinese Food**  
  
Dean wasn’t sure how they got here.  
  
He thought for a moment. It might have had something to do with the Chinese food.  
  
He grinned to himself. Oh, yeah. It had definitely been the Chinese food. His brother had been making these absolutely obscene sounds as he sucked chicken off his chopsticks.  
  
Dean was an American male. He didn’t always think when presented with temptation.  
  
So the next thing he remembered was knocking the carton of food aside, tangling his hands in Sam’s shirt and hair, and jerking his mouth to his.  
  
He barely had time to feel Sam’s lips against his, barely managed the smallest taste before large, rough hands were on his shoulders, shoving him away.  
  
He stumbled back, almost falling over the bed, and looked up at his brother, all floppy hair and heaving chest, and wasn’t that a nice sight.  
  
Sam just stared at him, eyes glaring, accusing, but he didn’t speak. Just stood there and stared.  
  
Dean couldn’t do anything but stare back.  
  
And then Sam’s hands were on him again, curling in his shirt and now Dean was being jerked forward, his brother’s lips smashed against his.  
  
It was hot and hard, teeth catching and nipping where they would. Dean was lost in the taste of his brother’s mouth, lost in the feel of those huge hands on his back, and from Sam’s whimpers, he wasn’t the only one.  
  
He didn’t even realize they had moved until he was falling onto the bed, accidentally biting Sam’s tongue as he landed with an _oof_.  
  
Then Sam was on top of him, all bony angles and hard muscles, and someone was moaning in this really annoying way until Sam’s mouth covered his and Dean realized it was him.  
  
Oh.  
  
Huh.  
  
Sam’s tongue swept into his mouth, and the kissing evened out, became something more than frantic, but no less dirty. Sam took his time, exploring Dean’s mouth, sparking all the nerve endings until Dean was writhing beneath him.  
  
Under his hands, Sam’s shoulders were shaking, his breath puffing into Dean’s mouth, and Dean couldn’t figure out why. Sam pulled away, and Dean realized he was laughing, his head thrown back and exposing that long, tanned neck.  
  
“Dude. What’s so funny?” Dean asked, exasperated. He wanted to get back to the kissing, dammit!  
  
“You should see what you look like, dude,” Sam grinned down at him. “You’re _trembling_.”  
  
“Aw, man, shut up.”  
  
“Nah, Dean, seriously. It’s hot. You’re all _needy_.”  
  
“Oh, that’s it, bitch.”  
  
Dean twisted and rolled until Sam was underneath him, all laughing and wanton, his long-ass legs spread so Dean could kneel between them.  
  
And they were both wearing way too many damn clothes, but that was okay when Sam’s fingers were curling in his shirt, pulling him down into a messy kiss, full of teeth and tongue.  
  
Dean didn’t think he would ever get tired of his little brother’s mouth.  
  
And damned if the thought of “little brother” didn’t just make him harder, and he unconsciously rocked his hips.  
  
Sam threw his head back, his chin almost clunking Dean’s forehead, as he whimpered, high in his throat.  
  
Dean smirked down at Sam, thrusting his hips just...so. Yeah, just like that, and he could feel Sam’s hot, hard erection, even through layers of denim and cotton.  
  
And from the sounds that Sam was making, he could feel Dean’s dick, too.  
  
Now, Dean was an evil older brother. Therefore, under the evil older brother law, he was allowed to make Sam suffer.  
  
If there was one thing he was good at, it was making Sam suffer.  
  
So instead of kissing Sam again, Dean skipped over that swollen, lush mouth and licked a long, hot line up Sam’s stubbled jaw, biting right below the ear.  
  
Sam jerked so hard he nearly threw Dean off, but Dean was ready, clutching bony hips tight.  
  
He spent long, hot minutes acquainting himself with Sam’s ear, licking all around, dipping his tongue in, finding that spot just behind that made Sam whimper and keen, what made his fingers clench on Dean’s arms. He found out that when he bit the top of the ear, Sam twisted and sobbed, bucked when Dean blew a stream of cool air into the cavity.  
  
And Dean could have spent hours just at that one spot, but Sam’s cries were becoming desperate, and Dean had a lot more area to cover.  
  
He nipped his way down Sam’s jaw, scraping his teeth over the pulsing veins, and those long legs locked high on Dean’s chest as Sam’s hands tightened until Dean knew he would have bruises.  
  
He spared a few brain cells to wonder if being all twisted up like that was painful, but then Sam arched up, exposing more throat for his questing tongue, and Dean promptly forgot everything but the taste of Sam’s skin.  
  
Okay, ow. Sam’s grip on his arms was beginning to hurt.  
  
Pulling away, Sam’s needy cries going straight to his dick, Dean took Sam’s wrists in one hand, pinning them to the mattress above his head.  
  
“Oh, fuck,” Sam moaned, throwing his head back, and Dean latched onto his Adam’s apple, sucking hard.  
  
Thrashing and sobbing, Sam begged, “Oh, _god_ , Dean, pleasepleasepleasetouchmepleaseDeangod...”  
  
And because Dean was such an awesome brother, he reached down with his other hand, cupping Sam’s cock and rubbing just right with the palm of his hand, pulling back to watch Sam shatter under him.  
  
Hot _damn_. Sam was gorgeous when he came. Tendons standing out clear and hard, sweat-slick hair flying, flushed and biting his lips to the point of blood.  
  
Oh, god yes. Dean wanted to see that sight again and again.  
  
Rubbing his hand over the growing wet spot until Sam whimpered from more pain than pleasure, Dean brought his fingers to his mouth, licking his brother’s taste from them.  
  
And fucked if that didn’t jolt his cock even more. It was little Sammy’s come on his hand, little Sammy’s taste that he was licking off.  
  
Dean felt really fucking dirty.  
  
He really fucking liked it.  
  
Coming back to himself, he looked down at Sam. Huge eyes stared back at him, green swallowed by black, and Dean realized with another jolt that a)neither of them had removed any clothes (which needed to change, fast), and b)Sam’s eyes were following the movement of Dean’s tongue on his fingers.  
  
And wasn’t that all sorts of hot.  
  
Dean stopped licking his fingers, doing his best to ignore the new sound that Sam made, and tugged at the fucking hoodie and layers of shirts his brother always wore.  
  
“Motherfucker,” he cursed. “Why do you always wear so many fucking layers?”  
  
“To protect me from crazy advances.” Sam tilted his head and squinted. “Huh. Didn’t work against you.”  
  
If Dean hadn’t been so hard, he might have punched Sam. As it was, though, he yanked on Sam’s shirts until the younger man got the hint and twisted in some pretty impressive moves, pulling them off and flinging them onto the floor. Then Dean’s hands were all over Sam’s chest, followed by teeth and tongue.  
  
Sam gasped, arching into his brother’s mouth, his hands clenching in the sheets, because holy fuck, Dean was _talking_ , the words rumbling and tickling over his skin.  
  
“Mmm, Sammy, you taste so good...do you like this? Like your big brother’s mouth on you? Like how I can make you feel?” White teeth caught on a hard nipple, and Sam choked on a moan, rolling up into that mouth like something...really damn hot.  
  
Yeah, so Dean was a little lacking with the apt comparisons. He was surprised his brain wasn’t leaking out of his ears, he was so turned on.  
  
“Good god, Sam,” he choked out. “I’m going to do so much to you...you’re going to suck me, Sam. You’re going to wrap that pretty mouth around my cock and suck me dry, and beg me for more.”  
  
Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head as his dick slowly stiffened in his jeans, and Dean kissed him, missing the taste of his mouth.  
  
Sam was wild beneath him, rolling his hips until Dean had to bite his lip to make him stop. He was already only hanging on by a thread.  
  
And Sam, the little shit, knew it, because he shoved himself into Dean’s teeth, into the pain, doing this absolutely illegal trick with his hips; Dean’s hands skidded on the covers as his vision whited out.  
  
Hot _damn_.  
  
Sam’s moans worked their way into his ears, followed by the feel of his hips working, shoving his cock against Dean’s chest.  
  
And Dean realized that Sam was still clutching the sheets, purposely not touching Dean, and he groaned, his cock twitching way too damn soon at the thought of Sam deliberately restraining himself.  
  
His little brother was going to kill him.  
  
What a fucking awesome way to go.  
  
Sam whimpered and twisted underneath Dean, but Dean managed a lazy smirk and rolled them so Sam was on top, Sam’s legs falling from around Dean’s chest.  
  
Sam fell upon him like a wild thing, ripping off his shirt and sinking his teeth into Dean’s collarbone.  
  
Now Dean’s eyes were rolling back in his head as he felt the bruise form, felt the vibrations of Sam’s harsh sounds against his chest.  
  
Then those lips were on his nipples, sucking hard and long, and Dean lost his last remaining brain cells imagining that mouth around his cock.  
  
“Christ, I want to fuck you,” he finally muttered, crying out as Sam’s teeth sank deep into his pectoral.  
  
Tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair, he pulled Sam’s head up, focusing on the eyes glassy with need. “You want that, little brother?” He asked softly, but deadly. “You want my cock in your tight ass, pounding you into the mattress? Or maybe the backseat of the Impala? Bent over the trunk?” He slipped the fingers of his other hand into Sam’s mouth, groaning as he began to suck them hard. “Is that what you want to do, Sammy?” he continued. “To suck me? Maybe while I’m driving? Or do you want my mouth around you? Swallowing you down?”  
  
Sam bit down into Dean’s fingers as Dean shoved a knee between Sam’s thighs, putting the friction where it was needed most, and felt even more wetness soaking Sam’s jeans.  
  
Sam half-fell/half-leaned down, pulling Dean’s fingers from his mouth and kissing Dean, hot and hungry, even after two orgasms. Long fingers, clumsy from post-coital bliss, fumbled Dean’s jeans open, pulled him out of his boxers, and Sam swallowed Dean’s groans as he wrapped a hand around his older brother’s dick, tugging it sharp and hard, twisting his wrist and swiping a thumb over the head.  
  
Dean dug his hands into Sam’s hair, holding him close as they half-kissed, half-panted into each other’s mouths, Sam urging, “C’mon, Dean, c’mon, man, let me see it, let me feel it, come for me, Dean, come on...”  
  
And god knew that Dean could never resist his brother as it was. But when he was begging oh so prettily?  
  
Dean fucking caved like paper hit with a bullet.  
  
Sam looked down at his hand for a long moment, then licked a stripe up the palm, and Dean groaned as his dick valiantly tried to perk back up, but couldn’t.  
  
And from Sam’s pained moan, neither could his.  
  
They managed to drag themselves up to the pillows, pull a blanket over them, and Sam curled into Dean, still licking his hand like a hungry cat.  
  
Dean flopped an arm over his eyes, because watching that was going to kill him.  
  
Then he took his arm away. If his last vision was going to be anything, it would be porn, not his own skin.  
  
Finished with his tongue bath, Sam looked up at him with luminous eyes full of questions, but Dean was in no mood to answer any of them.  
  
At least, not until morning.  
  
“Dude, don’t say a word. I’m happily brainless, and don’t want to think.”  
  
Sam studied him for a long moment, then wordlessly curled around him even more, closing his eyes.  
  
And god damn it, they were still wearing their jeans, but Dean was too tired and blissed out to care.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.sinful-desire.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=1541>  



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